Officer Down (A Digital Short Story) Read Online Free Page B

who-knew-what-else crunched under my sturdy black sneakers. I grabbed Parks by the belt…and yanked.
    His hands scrambled to hold onto the sill as his baggy, oversized pants slipped down his hips, exposing even more of his purple boxers. He banged an elbow on something, cursed again and fell back into the room. At six-one, two-hundred-twenty pounds—all of it prison yard muscle—he was built like a bull on steroids. All of that came stumbling back at me.
    We hit the floor, hard.
    I grunted, worried I’d cracked a rib. Shoving him off, I gasped for air and rolled in the opposite direction. Things jabbed at me through my jacket, rusted nails, broken glass. I worried about needles, and my jacket.
    It’s a Piero Tucci , damn it. If it’s ruined…
    I scrambled to my feet, spun to face him, trying to control my breathing. If I appeared winded, Parks would see me as weak. I couldn’t allow that. Being a woman in this business caused me enough grief as it was.
    “Tyrell Parks,” I said. “You’re coming with me.”
    “Youse the cops?” On his feet too, he faced me.
    “Bail enforcement.”
    He cocked his head to the side like a confused puppy. “Say what?”
    “Bounty hunter, asshole.”
    “Shit. A sista like you? No fuckin’ way.”
    I brought up the .45, reluctant to shoot him. They don’t do dead or alive anymore. Too bad—it would make things a lot easier. “No sista, bro, a hot-blooded Latina with an Irish temper. Someone you don’t wanna mess with.”
    I planted my feet. Reading him, afraid he might lunge.
    “Sheeeet!” He charged.
    A knot formed in the pit of my stomach. For an instant I reconsidered shooting him, but I drew back my gun. I’d cold-cock the son of a bitch instead.
    But he was too fast. Like lightening on crack cocaine. He swept away my arm, clamping his hand on my wrist and stopping my swing dead. He squeezed.
    I gasped.
    With a sharp snap of my wrist he sent my gun flying. It landed a dozen feet away in a debris pile of studs, drywall and pipes. With his free hand he seized my throat and tightened his grip, lifting me off the ground. “Bitch come at me. Sheeet.”
    I gurgled. It was all I could do.
    “Tyrell’ll be learnin’ you a thing ‘bout manners now, bitch.” He slammed me into a wall. My head bounced off the plaster. The wall shook. I saw stars, and tears filled my eyes. I’d pounded the pooch on this one, hadn’t I?
    He grinned, revealing a grill full of gold-capped teeth. He pressed his body into me, pinning me to the wall with all his crushing weight. Sweat and aggression radiated from him, sour and hot. And some god-awful smelling breath. So bad, I’d’ve gagged if I weren’t being choked to death.
    I thrashed around, wanting to get my loose hand inside my coat pocket. I kicked out, trying to push off the wall. Hopeless efforts.
    Parks laughed at me.
    I wheezed like a tire losing air.
    I grew lightheaded. I was running out of oxygen and time. I tried to ignore the pain, the pressure against my chest, his smell, all of it, while I worked on getting my hand into my jacket pocket. I missed.
    Fear seized me, as tightly as Parks’ grip.
    “We’s gonna have some real fun now, bitch.” His face came in close to mine. I had no doubt about what he intended. Thoroughly disgusted, I turned my head. His mouth mashed wetly across my lips. His tongue raked my cheek. I vowed it wouldn’t happen. I’d kill him first. Somehow.
    I got my hand inside my pocket.
    “Fine. No foreplay.” He reached between our compressed bodies, began fumbling with his belt buckle. “We’s just go right to the main event then.”
    “I don’t think so.”
    My words were raspy but I didn’t care. I had the stun gun in my hand.
    He got his belt unbuckled.
    I jabbed the stun gun into his side. It crackled, and his body convulsed. He stumbled back, shuddering like a short-circuiting robot. I dropped to the floor—incredibly, he didn’t. Though his eyes were wide and his teeth clattered like